


as the soul within your dust is shared

by gootarts



Category: Umineko no Naku Koro ni | When the Seagulls Cry
Genre: Alternate Universe-Succubi, Anal Sex, Canon-typical trans content, F/M, M/M, Multi, Pegging, Threesome, monster dildos, succubi battler, throatfucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:35:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27361342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gootarts/pseuds/gootarts
Summary: Beato and Battler invite Virgilius over.
Relationships: Beatrice the Golden Witch/Ushiromiya Battler, Ushiromiya Battler/Virgilius
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	as the soul within your dust is shared

**Author's Note:**

> if you’re the kind of person who likes a visual on which dildos are getting shoved up somebody's ass, it’s vaguely based on yuri from strangebedfellas

The first time he meets Beatrice, it is in a dark room, the summoning circle barely illuminated by a handful of candles. The only thing he can see properly is the figure sitting atop a plain kitchen chair, legs crossed, shirt open despite the darkness concealing what exactly lay beneath. Through the darkness, he can hear their words properly, sternly, nervously.

“Make love to me.” Despite any stammering in the voice, it is not a request, but an order.

* * *

A couple years later, and that same person is now in front of him once again, her gaze boring holes in the toaster as it chars her bread to a crisp.

“You set it to the high setting agaiiiiiiin.” Her words draw out the last word until it stretches the length of the rest of the sentence combined.

“I like my stuff crispy! You need to check it every time you use it.” Battler’s words are spoken through a mouthful of buttered toast burn to a crisp. Old habits died hard, and they die even harder if they were originally forged in hell.

“Mmmmm.” She groans as her fork unhappily salvages a single slice of bread charred far beyond any reasonable person’s definition of ‘burnt’ from the toaster.

“Give it to me and I’ll eat it for you.” He’s been through this song and dance so often that he always is sure to leave room for an extra piece in case Beato forgets to turn the settings back to normal. A moment later, a piece of toast drops on his plate, buttered to perfection. It practically crumbles in his mouth. Delicious.

The ding of the toaster popping out Beato’s acceptably crispy piece of toast chimes at the same time as Beato’s phone, the noise so synchronized Battler wouldn’t have noticed if not for her phone lighting up on the table. In a single move, she fishes it up and gives it a glance.

“Virgilius is coming over this weekend, by the way.”

Battler groans. Loudly.

“Hoh? I thought you liked him.” He sees the beginnings of a wild smirk form on her face as she rests her face on her palm. “You always seem so full of energy when he’s over.”

A succubi’s power within hell was limited; somebody born and raised within the deepest recesses of the underworld would have power akin to maybe a small, adorable puppy that stumbled over their own paws. To become the kind of being that could make lesser devils bow in fear, that power needed to be cultivated, first through humans and then in the succubi’s own body. Hence was why he lived with Beato.He liked that brunette that he met on that lonely summer night, enough that he formed a contract almost on the spot. He gained power every time he lay in bed with her, and she gained a companion who gladly put up with her every whim. Even through any issue with her body itself, her spirit gave off the energy of a banquet filled to the brim with meat and wine, a verifiable feast fit for a king.

…And underneath all that, as embarrassing as it was, he would spend his nights in the realm of humans instead of in hell just to lie next to her. It was fun to be fucked by her, fun to talk with her, fun to simply bask in her presence. One moment she could be a sadist, the kind that would give demons and devils alike a run for their money, and the next the kind of angel who would rub his muscles down after they had been tied up for hours, teasing him all the while.

Virgilius had none of those good qualities. His personality wasn’t grating enough to make him refuse an offer, but it was more than enough to grate on her nerves. 

(despite beato's jokes, he definitely did not like virgilius. nope. not one bit. he _definitely_ didn't think of the man as a little entertaining, or interesting to debate with. even if beato could see it as clear as day, that was the one hill he would die on.)

“It’s not fun when you’re in the middle of something and he brings up on of my theories for a murder mystery that makes me want to crawl into a hole!”

“Like your simultaneous clockwise murders theory?” She pauses to cackle, the grin spreading from her lips to her entire face. “I liked that one!”

“Nooooo, begone cruel witch! Don’t bring up my embarrassing past!” He is approximately a second from chucking his toast at her face and a millisecond away from burying his head in the ground in shame. 

“If I recall, you made that theory last week.” Damnit, she was humming now. That cruelty had to be a violation of some law somewhere. Bringing it up was probably against the Geneva conventions or something. “I’ll tell him to keep the comments on your theories to a minimum until after we’re done.”

"Thanks.” That at least eased his mind. Having him bring something like that up in the middle killed the mood with a knife and then had the two of them shout deranged theories at each other over who was the one who did it. Virgilius was going to get, at the very least, a lengthy text about it. Maybe he'd nail it to his door or something, titled _Battler's 69 Theses_. 

* * *

Beato kept a list of people to invite over. It wasn’t a particularly long one, mostly because she curated it with the critical eye of a top-level scout or coach. Every so often, she would shoot off a text to one of them saying something along the lines of _want to play with battler this weekend?_ simply to watch the chaos that ensued. It just so happened that one of those names was Virgilius Furudo.

As far as things went, succubi weren’t particularly picky like humans were. A hungry person wouldn’t care if they were fed, so long as it tasted halfway decent; succubi were the same way with sex. So long as he caught glimpse of Beato’s smiling face at the end of the night, he truly didn’t care. Even if whoever she wanted had his body, only she would have his heart.

Still, Virgilius was an ass. His biggest selling point was that Beato was comfortable enough around the guy to get involved in any ideas they’d cooked up, really. He wasn’t nearly as picky as Beato, but the only things Battler really liked about him was that he liked to play rough and was sorta hot. He was fine enough in the heat of the moment, but it was his personality that was the problem.

Once Beato wanted to unwind after something intense, her hands would always drift towards her stack of detective movies. Normally their guests were pleasant as they relaxed and watched. Virgilius did not. He would _always_ spout some harebrained theory that was so ridiculously detached from reality that Battler would have no choice but to argue with him about it. One thing would lead to another, and they would always end the show shouting increasingly unhinged theories at each other as Beato cackled at the both of them.

Humans may regret having sex with somebody, but for Battler, the regret eating at his conscience at some ridiculous hour of the morning was the memories of those embarrassing theories he came up with on the spot to argue with Virgilius about. How could you possibly sleep at night when you remembered that your theory for third episode of the second season of that bland, forgettable series three decades old was that pitfalls were actually planted in that expensive manor and then covered up again the day after with renovation work that didn’t leave a trace? You couldn’t!!! And thus was the reason for their feud, if it could even be called that.

After some bit of back and forth texting, they ended up finalizing a time and date. Instead of fantasizing about sex or what they’d do once Virgilius would come over, the morning of the meeting was spent trying to fantasize about the ways he’d finally show Virgilius’ stupid, brainless theories up. Beato might’ve snickered as she caught glimpse of him dressed only in boxers, his tail twitching like a cat’s, but he knew better, for this would certainly be the time his theories won against Virgilius.

(this happened every time he came over; he would think up some plot to finally best virgilius, only for it to fall by the wayside the second he opened his mouth.)

* * *

To give him credit, Virgilius was nothing if not punctual. Scarily punctual, even; while most people would arrive a moment early or late, he always seemed to walk in the door right as the clock chimed. If he didn’t know better, he would have guessed the man had been waiting outside the doorway, stalking his phone’s clock to deduce the exact time to barge in.

So when the clock struck three, he knows who had just entered the doorway without even looking up from his phone. It is Virgilius, dressed casually, his deep blue hair coasting down his scalp until it reaches his chin. But Battler is more focused on the bags of food he’s carrying; considering his cooking skills, he had _better_ have dinner in there. Beato’s practically drooling as she takes the bags from him and peeks at the contents. He has no way of know if it’s from hunger or lust, but he suspects it’s not just one.

“We’re not putting that on my body.” His voice is his rarely used _no-way-in-hell_ assertive tone as he crosses his arms as firmly as he can. No, absolutely not! He got a weird rash last time that happened!

“Kiyahaha, we’ll be sure to preserve your sanctity!” Beato says, in a tone that makes him know that she will listen to his request, but otherwise is not planning to preserve his body’s sanctity in any, way, shape or form. Halfway through her statement, she pulls a cookie out of the bag and starts to nibble its edges before tossing a second one to him.

Battler tries it. It’s good. Virgilius can stay.

“I’m glad you enjoyed my efforts.” Virgilius is surface-level polite, but then again, when you’re in somebody else’s house to fuck them, you sorta have to be. Who the hell wants to bang somebody who shows up and starts to insult them? Not Battler. Naturally, that equation changed a little if they brought food.

“Of course. I highly appreciate the time you put into this.” Beato’s politeness is no doubt driven less by manners and more due to the fact that buttering him up means he’ll bring more food in the future. As he nibbles his second cookie, he doesn’t exactly blame her. Beato is a creature driven solely by her stomach. Virgilius, on the other hand, is driven by his dick.

Which, speak of the devil, he’s waiting. Patiently. Slyly. Once Beato gets her fill of snacks, she turns to him and grins. No time is wasted on further pleasantries; she knows what they’re all here for, same as every time he’s shown up the past couple months. Battler feels that familiar, gentle boiling inside him as she slaps a hand on his shoulder and gestured into their shared bedroom, the reason why he hasn’t exactly been hopping on board to show his sister the place. There are rows and rows of shelves on the walls, and on the shelves are bright, multicolored dildos every color of the rainbow.

“What do you think would be a good fit for my little demon here?” At Beato’s request, Virgilius glances at the display, eyes darting from one dildo to another as if he hasn’t been here a half-dozen times in the past couple months. Virgilius knows exactly what he’s looking for, but the dramatics of the whole choosing his punishment thing probably get him to draw it out as long as possible before he finally picks one up.

“I want to see if this one will make him cry.” His smile is cruel as he plucks something off the highest shelf, something that definitely wasn’t in his range of vision a moment ago. If he was just hamming it up for his audience of two, it isn’t particularly convincing.

The toy, on the other hand, is. He won’t give Virgilius the satisfaction of knowing how hard his ass clenches as he pulls the thing down from the shelf, but he definitely sees Battler’s throat bob as he swallows. The thing is shaped like a girthy drill that Beato got a couple years ago because the thing looked nice; gold swirls overlaid upon its shimmery red depths. The two of them had a decent number of toys like that, collected because they looked nice and used solely as expensive paperweights. The issue was, the reason that you could get those nice pours was because of the ridiculous amount of real estate on some of the things. The specific one Virgilius is holding is maybe the circumference of Beato’s fist at its largest. He glances at Beato, but gets no sympathy from her.

“You heard him. Take it.” Beato raises an eyebrow. He has no room for complaints; that is their contract.

“I think he might need to warm up a little first, don’t you think? Would you be so kind as to allow me to do the honors?” The subtle bulge in his pants does the rest of the talking for Virgilius as his hands rest upon his belt.

“I’ll let you warm me up if I get to see you take it first! I’m sure it would be a walk in the park for you, _mister_ Virgilius.” The barb gets Beato spiraling into laughter, both at his jab and at Virgilius’ face. Poetic gold, that’s what it is! Even though all the excitement radiating off Virgilius as he slaps big globs of lube on the dildo, he’d bet his savings on Virgilius being able to get maybe halfway up the shaft before calling it quits.

“Kiyahaha! Virgilius, I’d pay for the sight of you taking something like that!”

“Unfortunately, I don’t believe I’ve prepared my body as Battler has today. Perhaps next time.” Ah, now that was something he would definitely, positively, certainly hold the guy to. Beato, too, looked all too pleased with the prospect. He’d need to make a note in his planner once they were done. And then he’d take a picture of the thing tearing him apart and get it framed.

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind for the future, ihihi.” Ah, yup, now _that_ expression on Virgilius’ face now was worth its weight in gold. For all his talk, there was no way the guy could take something like this. Even if he wasn’t a sadist like Beato, that expression wipes his mind of any thoughts unrelated to pinning the guy down and pressing the cock into him.

Specifically, to press him into the carpet or sofa like Virgilius normally did to him, pinning his arms behind him; it would be pretty easy. Tear his clothes off him like an animal, make him taste the humiliation that was normally directed at him. Even if he wasn’t the type to normally take the lead, that mental image, of Virgilius lying prone beneath him, is delicious. The taste infiltrates every level of his being, from his mind to his cock as he realizes that familiar heat between his legs is beginning to rise.

“If just the thought of it gets Battler like this, I’d like to see it, too.” Beato speaks through a mouthful of laughter, her molars gleaming in the morning light as she snatches the dildo from Virgilius and passes it to the succubus. If it wasn’t soft, it probably could be used as a murder weapon. Still could, probably; you could bludgeon somebody, if you were determined enough.

The head is soft, small, easy. Probably meant as a way to ease into the girth of the shaft. It’s easy to slick himself up and press himself into the head, with how he’d prepped a little earlier. The intrusion is gentle, but the pressure as he tries to ease himself deeper is not. Taking Virgilius’ offer to warm up might’ve been a better idea, but he sure as hell isn’t going to back down now that both their eyes are on him, watching, hungry. Somehow, he knows they’re planning on something before either of them makes a move; all his limbs are focused on taking the thing that there’s nothing left to fend off an advance.

Beato snatches his tail first, her thumb pressing firm and slow as she strokes the tip. Fuck. He wants to struggle against something so sudden and _intense,_ but her grip is far too strong to fight. Even if he could, every slow stroke turns his legs to jelly. She pulls up next to him on the bed, holding one of his legs up with her free hand as she leans over him, grinning. Even when he tries to thrash, she just tightens her grip, slowly but surely restricting his movement like a vise. Her message, between the bursts of pressure she puts on his weak spot, is clear enough; _stop struggling and submit._

Not happening, not when the two of them are amped up like this. He likes his ass.

“Don’t want to join in the fun?” Beato’s voice knocks Virgilius’ gaze up from drawing slow circles over the bulge in his pants to Battler again.

“I’m surprised you can get him like this so easily. He never gets like that when I touch his tail.” That’s because it’s sensitive! Like hell he was going to let him know how bad Beato’s touches are making his body ache.

“You need a firm hand is all. Firm and slo~ow. Want to give it a try?” Her hand presses down as her voice dips, and he can’t protest as she hands the tip to Virgilius; all he can do is gasp.

“No squirming.” Virgilius’ stare is punishing, but his bite is even more so. He feels the breath on his tail a moment before the nibble, the only warning to still himself lest he feel Virgilius’ teeth clamp down. Fuck. Virgilius swirls the thing in his mouth like a margarita for a moment, letting his tongue rub against every little piece of sensitive skin. It felt electric, like lightning crackling over his skin wherever he feels the heat of Virgilius’ tongue on him. It combines with Beato’s free hand massaging his nipples. It hits the limit of his mental processes to just focus on what’s in front of him, to focus on breathing. For Beato, though, it wasn’t enough.

“Hey, Battleeeeer. What about that cock you promised to hilt? You’ve barely touched it.” Her frown was definitely at least a little exaggerated as she looks down at him like a wet puppy. Sure Beato, he’ll take this giant cock while her and her friend were trying their absolute best to distract him from that.

“I can’t focus on that while you two are tormenting me!” There’s only so much his brain can focus on at once, and right now it’s a little overloaded! Between Beato and Virgilius toying with his tail, his body is already occupied a hundred percent beyond capacity.

“Hoh? That can be solved pretty easily, can’t it?” Like a hawk, Beato swoops in, adjusting her position so that her hands overlap with his. Her fingers are warm and soft as they grip the dildo, his moving aside for her.

And then she buries the thing a bit deeper, a little past the limits he’d passed earlier. The gentle pressure blossoms into a demand, for him to lie back and take it. There’s no room for negotiation, only submission.

His body repositions itself, making it easier for her to access. She’s above him now, her breath on his body. She’s pretty like this, with the sun glistening off her skin, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she focuses and tries to get to a good position over him. It’s awkward; she can’t even tease him like this, with one hand dedicated to not falling face-first onto the bed and the other dedicated to fucking him. She pulls off of him a moment later, leaving the gaping emptiness where the cock was a moment ago. No fair.

“Entertain him for a moment, Virgilius. I need to grab a harness.” As Beato grabs one off the shelf, he has to contend with Virgilius. Somewhere in the noise, his guest’s pants got unbuttoned.

As much as he’d rather die than admit it to Virgilius, the sight of him stroking himself shoots a dose of adrenaline through him. His body is begging to be touched like that, slowly, gently. Just for a moment, he allows his hands to drift down to his dick, to press his grip into it and give it the pleasure it desires. Beato is strapping in her monster cock, and Virgilius is jacking off and doing whatever it was he was doing. It would take more than a couple casual strokes to relieve the tension inside him—hell, he felt it building inside him as he gave his cock a couple strokes—but he doesn’t care. It felt _good,_ almost like there is nothing around him but him and his cock. It had been begging for release for so long that it is impossible to stifle his moan as he touches it slowly and eagerly. Sure, Beato would be back in a moment, but for now, his dick is demanding more and more attention; the more he touched it, the more the heat inside his body threatened to boil over in a cycle that felt almost endless.

He isn’t prepared for the sudden, unexpected burst of pleasure traveling up his spine as Virgilius presses his nails into his tail again, disrupting his train of thought with a demand.

“Suck it.” He says that as he pretty much presses his dick into Battler’s cheek. Thanks. Really appreciated, Virgilius.

“Stop waving it in my face first!” Battler glares at Virgilius as he adjusts his position, from lying on his back to kneeling on all fours. Virgilius _finally_ releases his tail, even if it’s only to run his fingers through Battler’s hair and guide the cock to his mouth.

Mmph. He’s taken the thing in his mouth enough that the taste isn’t an issue, but the girth? It’s a little ridiculous. It doesn’t quite gag him as it muffles him, pressing into every bit of his mouth as it demands his attention.

“You did a good job of quieting him down. Good work.” He hears Beato’s voice, but can’t see her face; he tries to get a glimpse of her, but Virgilius only grabs his horns when he tries to shift his view.

“You’re supposed to be focused on me right now. Ignore her.” He says that as if Beato’s isn’t the hottest thing in this room right now! Virgilius is looking at her now, isn’t he? Battler’s already feeling her hands rub down his hips too, giving his ass a light slap for good measure.

He tries to squirm, but Virgilius only grips down harder on his horns, forcing his cock further down his throat. He slowly presses his cock further and further into Battler’s mouth. The message is clear: he isn’t going to back down, not until every inch of his dick is inside him. Against every instinct, he has to let go of the tension filling his body and relax from jaw to throat, else risk choking. He can feel the thing filling up every bit of his throat as it forces itself inside him inch by inch.

The only thing keeping him from hitting the bed are his arms, even as they start trembling from the heat inside him. His entire body quivers, begging for Virgilius to fully hilt himself. This was the high point of these sessions; the quaking of his body as he was used only as a toy, nothing more. It presses his body to the limits, which only flood his body with more of that invisible energy a succubus fed upon. Any pain was reversed to pleasure as he is forced to obey his body’s limits.

The only thing he can do to protest is moan as Virgilius clenches his fingers around his horns, forcing his head to go whoever the other man desires. He knows what Virgilius is about to do the second he pulls himself fully out, the taste of precum and slobber following a moment later as he takes a breath in preparation.

Every bit of his body anticipates it and readies himself, but it still isn’t enough to absorb the shock as he thrusts into his mouth in a single solid swoop. He’s as reserved about fucking his throat as he is fucking any other part of him, which is to say not at all. All Virgilius wants in this moment is for Battler to relax his throat so that he can fuck it deeper; everything else about him, his aching cock, his weary limbs, are forgotten. Right now, he is only existing to please him.

Every time he hilts himself on Battler’s lips, he can feel it all the way from his throat down to his cock, and every time he withdraws, the only thing Battler can do is catch a shaky breath. It’s a weird rhythm, forcing him to focus only on the timing of his throat being stuffed with cock so that he can breathe. Virgilius’ cock moving in and out of him so quickly leaves trails of drool on his chin; he can barely swallow his spit back, so every thrust deeper leaves him looking more and more of a complete mess. It’s a moment that’s both over in an instant and lasts for eternity.

He is so caught up in keeping up with Virgilius’ strange, rapid pace that his body tenses when he’s interrupted by the feeling of Beato spreading his ass. Suddenly, the pressure isn’t on a single side, but on both ends—from Beato as she enters him again, and from Virgilius, whose rapid strokes keep forcing him back.

“Look at me, pet.” As if Battler has a choice; looking away or breaking concentration will mean he gags on the girth thrusting into his mouth. Even so, it’s hard to ignore what Beato is doing to his other end. The two of them are almost compressing him, the pain and pleasure combined leaving him wanting to fold in on himself. Even for a succubus, the sensations are overwhelming, the two conflicting sides forcing him to stay put and just receive the punishment they were giving out.

Normally when Beato fucks like this, he would lie down to receive it, but he is on all fours—there is little he can do to stop his body moving forwards as he feels her every thrust inside him, but that movement only translates to feeling Virgilius deeper inside his throat.

He tastes the cum a moment before Virgilius lets out a moan. It takes a couple gulps to wash out most of the taste as his weary arms finally sense that it’s okay to give out beneath him. Finally, he collapses on the bed, his knees barely holding his ass in the air for Beato to have her way with.

“You took a lot out of him. Congratulatiooooons.” Battler groans at the comment, but at least Beato finally moves her hand around to grip his dick.

He can’t really turn himself around all the way, nor does he have the energy to flip over, but he feels that Beato is close to fully hilting the thing inside him. Every time he feels the texture of it pulling out, his body clamps down on the feeling, wanting to keep it inside him, but she refuses him that pleasure. Even as he’s tired, he doesn’t want to feel the emptiness of her pulling out. He wants her inside him, deep, stuffing him from every angle.

He doesn’t have a visual, but he can still feel when she fully inserts the thing; there’s a small bulge before the neck tapers off like a plug has, and fuck can he _feel_ it when it goes in. His hole goes from stretching to its absolute maximum to settling around its neck as he feels the rest of the shaft filling him.

“Fuuuuck.” Beato snaps the thing out of its harness, leaving him to quiver on the bed as she steps back to admire her handiwork. Virgilius joins her, his dick already tucked back in his pants. He wanders around the edge of the bed as if he is some curator inspecting a sculpture as he flips Battler onto his back, rubbing his chin in contemplation.

“I was hoping something that big would leave a bulge. Hm.” It takes a moment for his brain to connect the dots. Dammit, did he choose that toy because he was hoping to see it poking out from under his skin? Beato responds with just a cackle.

“There’s far too much meat on his bones for that! Full-blooded succubi aren’t slender waifs, you know.” She sits down next to him, running a hand from his collarbone down, her fingers lingering over his hips. They press down just a little, sending a shiver up his spine, starting at his neck and stopping at his asshole as it clenches around the cock inside. He doesn’t quite like the look of that smile; it is always a portend of one of her sadistic ideas. “Besides, you can still feel it in him.”

Virgilius’ hands are cold, damn it! They’re cruel and icy as they prod him, and only remind him of how full he is. They trace the outline of where he’s stuffed, pushing every-so-slightly down on it; the sensation of it is so intense that he has to clench down on the dildo in case his abuse manages to slide it out. Which, of course, only makes him _more_ interested.

One of Virgilius’ hands, still cold, wraps around his cock. At this point, he’s been stuffed and prodded enough that it doesn’t take much to push him over the edge. He feels it a moment before it actually happens as the heat pulsing at the base of his spine locks up, telling him that it is not a measure of _if_ , but _when_. Even so, even with how obnoxious Virgilius could be, he wants that moment of pleasure just before release to last forever. But just like holding water in your cupped hands, he couldn’t hold it off for more than a brief moment as he feels that sensation spill out to the rest of his body. His muscles pulse with heat as that pleasure courses through him in waves.

When it ends, he glances up to see his belly covered with cum and Beato hovering over him with a towel. It’s warm with water, and he’s glad to relax as she wipes his body down.

“Mmmmhp.” He doesn’t realize how sticky his face was until it was clean; it was easy to forget about it in the heat of the moment.

“You sound like a cat.” Beato’s voice is gentle even through its teasing. He mock swats at her like one, but that only causes her to laugh louder.

“Hey, cats have pretty nice lives. They get to nap whenever they want, act like brats, and step on pretty woman’s boobs without getting yelled at. I’d say that’s pretty high living, hihihi.” He gives her a tired grin.

“You say that like it’s not your life already.” Dammit Virgilius, let him have this small victory!!!

“I pay my keep, I do the chores, and I have a job. Cats get everything without lifting a finger because they’re cute.” He frowns and crosses his arms.

“I think he’s plenty cute, especially when he’s splayed out looking like this.” Her fingers inch under his chin, giving them a little scritch. He'd like to say he didn't enjoy it, but that would be a complete lie. Beato's attention, even when she's acting like this, is like he's gotten catnip injected into his veins; he just wants to roll over and rub his face on her.

“So I’m only cute when i’m being used as your personal toy?” 

“Fishing for compliments, are we?” Be quiet, Virgilius. Don't reveal his plan. Thankfully, he has just the reply to save face.

“After taking something like that, I think I deserve a compliment.“ 

If Beato’s grin gets any wider, it’s going to cleave her face in two. “I think you were quite sensual when you were taking that massive cock up your ass, _love_.”

“Lovebirds.” 

“Jealous, Virgilius? I mean, I’m able to touch her boobs anytime I want to, unlike you.” For good measure, one of Beato’s breasts gets a gentle pat, which only causes her to howl with laughter.

“I prefer remaining the way I am.” Virgilius shrugs. 

“I guess that’s fair. You can’t beat living with Beato, though!” Battler gives another of his grins as he hooks an arm around Beato's shoulders. Really, what would he have done without her? Her personality is the entire package and then some, all of which is endearing beyond words. 

“I like my food non-charred to a crisp.” He gives a sly smile, as if scorched toast or well-done steak is such a pressing issue that it would merit living apart from such a lovely woman.

“Hoh? That reminds me. Virgilius, prepare dinner. I’ll get a bath ready for Battler.” She speaks as if she is unleashing divine punishment for his barb. Technically, no gods are involved—instead, what was invoked was a short text to them promising the two of them just that. He’d almost forgot about that~ climbing out of a warm bath to a nice meal sounded nice around now.

As he fantasizes about food he doesn’t have to cook himself, Beato grabs a massager and heads to the bathroom, giving her body a nice, long stretch.

“Need help?” Sometimes she would want company, sometimes she would not; whether she would be comfortable with it or not is like rolling the dice. His legs are more spaghetti than muscle, but if she wants it, such paltry physical limits won’t stop him.

Her smile and laughter bring a smile to his face as he follows her in.


End file.
